


PB Item, #4655247

by JoMarch



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMarch/pseuds/JoMarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You told my mother that I threw my back out while having sex with my assistant?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	PB Item, #4655247

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: This is based on a very minor detail that was mentioned in a season five spoiler. It's not giving any plot details away, but just so you know. There's also a passing reference to _Inauguration: Over There._  
>  Disclaimer: As far as I'm concerned, they still belong to Aaron. With the exception of Adira Lyman, who belongs to Ryo and me.  
> Thanks: as always, to Em and Ryo. Also, special thanks to Nikki, both for excellent beta skills and for coming up with the title.

She seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time on Josh's desk lately.

Still, Donna reflected as she transferred the last pile of folders and memos to the floor, kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the desk, it couldn't be helped. She needed an unobstructed view of the office, and this was the best angle she could find.

She shook her head as she realized that there was no way around it: they'd have to move at least one bookshelf to the Operations Bullpen. Probably two bookshelves, she decided, as she took a second look around. Josh was going to be pissed when she told him. When he came back and discovered the addition to his office decor, he would--

"Donna?" Josh's voice, coming from beneath her, startled Donna out of her reverie. She looked down to see Josh in front of the desk, apparently fixated on the sight of her toes, the hot pink nail polish she'd applied last night visible through her sheer pantyhose. "Would you care to explain why you're standing on my desk?" he asked.

"I was just trying to decide where we should put it."

"Put what?" Josh's gaze, Donna noted with amusement, had moved up from her toes. He now seemed obsessed with her knees.

"Would you care to help me down?" she asked. As attempts at misdirection went, this one was obvious. However, Josh never responded well to change, and it wouldn't hurt to put him in a receptive mood before he spotted the changes she'd already made.

Josh put his arms around Donna's waist and helped her off the desk. He held her a few seconds longer than necessary, his arms locked just around her waist, his lips perilously close to hers. Donna complimented herself on her will power as she broke away from him and pointed toward the item the delivery crew had brought while Josh was on the Hill.

"You got kind of a present today," she explained.

Josh turned around to see what she was gesturing at. With his back to her, Donna couldn't gauge his expression, but his tone made it clear that he was no longer focused on her toes, her legs or her lips.

"What the hell is this," he bellowed, "and what is it doing in my office?"

She couldn't entirely blame him. The office was still a mess and the new furniture wasn't being displayed to its best advantage. Lord knew the office had been crowded enough before. The delivery guys had tried, shoving the new arrival up against some bookcases and file cabinets, but it was still a tight fit. As much as Donna had hoped to rearrange the room before Josh got back from the Hill, the job was too overwhelming. And, frankly, interior design wasn't in her job description. She had been, now that she thought it over, doing him quite a favor. And, in typical Josh fashion, he was going to react by throwing a small temper tantrum. She closed the door--a task not easily accomplished in an office with one piece of furniture too many--both for privacy and in order to save their colleagues' eardrums.

Turning back to Josh, she used her favorite "I-am-working-for-an-idiot" voice. "I believe the technical term is couch," she told him. "As for why it's in your office, read this."

She handed him the card the delivery guys had given her and sat down on the new couch to watch him. It was actually kind of amusing, figuring out what part of the note he was reading based on his expression. At first his face lit up with pleasure, and she got a brief glimpse of his dimples. That meant he'd just read the greeting--"My dear boy"--and was happy to get a message from his mother in the middle of a long day. Then he rolled his eyes, obviously somewhere between amused and exasperated that his mother had taken it upon herself to call Pottery Barn and order a stylish brushed twill sage sofa for her son's office. At 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Actually, Donna reflected, she wouldn't have minded hearing that conversation herself. But then the exasperation transformed itself into outright shock and horror, and Donna was very, very glad she'd had the foresight to shut the door. When he was perturbed, after all, Josh's voice did have a tendency to carry.

"You told my mother that I threw out my back while I was having sex in the office with my assistant?" Josh stared at her accusingly.

"You want to raise your voice a little more there, Wild Thing?" Donna asked as she stood back up. She'd always found that standing helped put across her point more forcibly, as it were. "I'm not sure Leo heard you."

"Yeah. Okay. Point taken," Josh said, lowering his decibel level accordingly. "But--you told my mother?"

"No," Donna replied. "No, of course I didn't." It was possible, she thought, that her voice had sounded a bit too defensive there to be convincing.

"And yet I'm holding in my hand a note which indicates some level of knowledge on my mother's part."

"Your mother is an extremely perceptive woman." Donna gave Josh an appraising look, then shook her head. "I don't understand why it is _you're_ so clueless."

"I am not clueless," he replied. "I'm an extremely perceptive political operative. Did I not just convince the Democratic leadership that they need to support our..." His voice trailed off, leaving Donna to conclude that she had smirked too soon. "Stop trying to misdirect me," he ordered, "and answer the question."

"That was a question?"

"Yes. Why did you tell my mother I threw my back out while we were..." His tone suddenly became uncharacteristically subdued. "...having sex in the White House."

"I didn't," she told him, hoping her own tone adequately conveyed the sense of outrage she was going for. "I never told your mother we had sex in the White House."

"But you implied."

"I did no such thing." She gave him her best Innocent-Woman-Wrongly-Accused look. "That would be wrong. I would never lie to your mother."

"Then why does she know--"

"I may have mentioned that your back was bothering you when she called last Tuesday," she conceded, hoping she didn't look as sheepish as she felt.

"Last Tuesday?" The poor boy looked mortified. "The Tuesday we..." He glanced over at his desk and waved a hand in the general direction of a corner which was, she now knew from painful experience, rather sharp. "Over there...with the..."

"Yes. That Tuesday. I did not, however, say anything that would indicate that your back was hurting you because you were lying on the desk while I..." She wondered whether the sudden surge of heat she felt in the room was the result of her blushing or whether it was caused by her recollection of what had happened on the desk last Tuesday.

Josh wasn't blushing. He was, however, rubbing his hand over his face the way he did when something was simply too embarrassing to contemplate. "Donna, I'm begging you here. Please tell me you didn't answer the phone and say, "Hi there, Mrs. Lyman. I was just on the desk with your son, re-enacting highlights from my new copy of the Kama Sutra. In the White House."

"You know I call your mother Adira, not Mrs. Lyman." Donna grinned as she watched Josh's horrified expression return. He really was too cute when he was mortified.

"Donna." He was turning several different shades of red, and his voice had a certain strangled quality to it, as though it took effort to pronounce those two syllables in his current mental state.

"Of course I didn't tell her what we were doing," she said. She thought she was being extremely gracious not to point out that he was the one who had bought her that new copy of the Kama Sutra. However, she decided, this was absolutely the last year that she would neglect to give him a list of acceptable birthday presents.

"Thank god." She could actually hear him sigh in relief.

"Although I wouldn't be surprised if she made an educated guess."

"I don't deserve this," Josh muttered. He started pacing around the room. After taking three steps, he came to a sudden halt. Thanks to his new couch, the available floor space had been cut in half. She'd have to do something about that when she rearranged the furniture. A Josh who couldn't pace was a cranky Josh.

"I have been a model of restraint," he said. She noticed that he was gesturing wildly, no doubt to compensate for his inability to pace. "No matter how much you provoke me with those legs..." He stared at her legs in a way that made her very glad she hadn't worn pants to work today. "And the hair and how good you smell and that smile. Despite these many provocations, I have succeeded in keeping my hands off you in the White House. Except for that one time. And, okay, maybe the night of the Inauguration. I will admit that we have shared the occasional kiss. Discreetly. Behind closed doors. But I have resisted temptation. Mostly."

"Yeah, you're a real model of restraint," she commented. "That would explain why I had to spend five minutes hiding in here sewing buttons back on my dress yesterday while you went to senior staff looking all smug."

"I did not look smug," he insisted.

"Oh, you were smug, believe me."

"And I was halfway to the Oval Office before I realized you were still wearing my tie."

"Yeah, you might want to watch those little slip ups. We're supposed to be going for discreet." She paused for a moment, as it occurred to her that "discreet" wasn't really working for them. "You know, I think Toby may suspect. Also Charlie. And Will. Danny probably knows something's going on."

"Well, they were in the cab that night. Still I told them that nothing else happened. Man to man, you understand."

"And they believed you?"

"Of course they did. Okay, probably not. But we are men and shall never speak of it again."

"Well, I'm pretty sure CJ suspects. Nothing gets past that woman, you know. And your mother is just spooky that way."

Josh sat down suddenly, as though the knowledge that they weren't fooling anyone was just too much for his skilled political mind to handle. Donna sat down next to him. Strictly to try out the couch again, she told herself.

"It's a comfy couch," she said, after a minute.

"Very comfy," Josh conceded. "At least it's not some girly color."

Donna nodded. "It's a very manly shade of green," she managed to say without laughing.

Josh leaned back against the cushions. Not only was the sage a manly color, Donna decided, it set Josh's dress shirt off to advantage. Although he did look a bit uncomfortable, with his tie all tight like that. She leaned over him and slowly undid the tie.

She was pleasantly surprised when Josh put one arm around her and began nibbling on her ear.

"How long till my next meeting?" he asked.

She lifted his free arm, looked at his watch, and did the math. "Thirty minutes." As long as she had his hand, she thought, she might as well place a few open-mouthed kisses on it. And now that his tie was undone, he'd really be more comfortable if she unbuttoned his shirt. Especially since he was unzipping her dress.

"That should give us just enough time," he said, as he pulled her on top of him. "You know, this doesn't hurt my back at all."

Donna nodded. "Your mother is a genius," she agreed.

THE END  
09.30.03


End file.
